


Statement of Jonny d'Ville

by Illusion_Of_Sea_Axes



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Mechanisms are Grifter's Bone, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Minor Swearing, Minor Violence, References to other members of the Mechanisms, Smoking, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22776382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusion_Of_Sea_Axes/pseuds/Illusion_Of_Sea_Axes
Summary: Statement of Jonny d'Ville, regarding the Mechanisms' collaboration with Alfred Grifter.
Comments: 37
Kudos: 443
Collections: Mechanisms and Magnus Crossovers that maintain the integrity of mechanisms lore





	Statement of Jonny d'Ville

**Author's Note:**

> Set between episode 98 and 99.

[ **CLICK** ]

[There’s the low sound of passersby and chatter. Not too distant, but not necessarily close either, muffled by a layer of fabric. There’s the light noise of jostled objects and footsteps.]

[UNKNOWN voice, tense with frustration.]

UNKNOWN

“Damn.”

[The footsteps stop, the ruffle of clothing as someone rifles through their pockets]

ARCHIVIST

“Do you— [The ARCHIVIST clears his throat] Do you need a lighter?”

UNKNOWN

“Seems like it. You wouldn’t happen to— oh. Well, thanks.” 

[Shifting of weight, followed by the clicking of a lighter. UNKNOWN blows out heavily. A moment of silence passes.]

“Huh. Neat pattern it’s got there. Where’d you get it?”

ARCHIVIST

“Oh, it— it was a gift.”

UNKNOWN

“Hmm… Seems like a funny gift to get a friend of the Watcher, don’t you think?”

[The ARCHIVIST’s breathing momentarily quickens.]

ARCHIVIST

“I— I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

UNKNOWN

“You’re not discreet, Archivist. If you were, well, I’m sure some would be a lot more concerned. Catch.” 

[There’s the slap of metal between two hands as the ARCHIVIST presumably catches his lighter]

ARCHIVIST

“Are you? Concerned?”

UNKNOWN

[A sharp bark of laughter]

“That’s funny. ‘Course not. I haven’t been concerned about much in a while, Archivist. Just not built for it.”

ARCHIVIST

“Built…?”

UNKNOWN

[With a hint of irritation]

“It’s a turn of phrase.”

ARCHIVIST

“Well, I’m not as sure about those these days.” 

UNKNOWN

“Yeah. I heard a bit about what you and your friend in blue got up to. Orsinov’s a bit pissed off. Or so I hear.”

ARCHIVIST

“So you hear?”

UNKNOWN

“You hear quite a bit when you listen. I figured you’d know that. Or maybe not. The Watcher is all ‘bout eyeballs and the like, not so much ears.” 

ARCHIVIST

[The tape crackles with static as the ARCHIVIST speaks]

“What do you know about Orsinov?”

[UNKNOWN’s voice comes out strained]

UNKNOWN

“Oh, ha, that’s quite a trick you got there. Isn’t that how you got such a nasty burn, there?”

ARCHIVIST

[A pause, the distortion grows thicker]

_ “What do you know—” _

UNKNOWN

[Each word sounds like it is being bitten out between bared teeth]

“Nothing of note.”

[The distortion vanishes. UNKNOWN’s voice grows light in tone]

“‘Sides, you’ve already met them. You probably know more than me. Now, if you want to hear a  _ story _ , I’ve got quite a few.”

[There is a brief ruffle of fabric followed by a deceptively light note on a harmonica]

ARCHIVIST

[Tone edging on fear]

“Please. Don’t.” 

UNKNOWN

“What, are you scared of a little music, Archivist?” 

ARCHIVIST

“Considering what I know about you, yes.” 

UNKNOWN

“Oh, and what  _ do  _ you know?”

ARCHIVIST

“That you were a participant in the deaths at Dean Street Jazz Club in Soho.”

UNKNOWN

“Soho? Oh, yeah, Soho! Nearly forgot about that. So you know if I, say, play a little tune on my harmonica here, this entire street’ll break out into pure, unhindered violence?”

ARCHIVIST

“... Yes.”

UNKNOWN

“So you’re not as stupid as they said you were. Good. I’m not really that good at conversation. Someone usually tries to shoot or stab me halfway through. Music is much more my preferred method of explaining. People are too busy trying to gut each other to gut me. Though I guess with that dull knife you’re not gonna be able to do much damage.” 

[The ARCHIVIST makes a strangled sound of surprise. There is a small ruffle of clothing]

ARCHIVIST

“Well I suppose you’ll just have to deal with using your words.” 

[UNKNOWN’s tone becomes tauntingly light]

UNKNOWN

“Oh but don’t you want my story, Archivist? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Don’t you want to  _ know _ ? Doesn’t it  _ eat  _ you up inside? Don’t you  _ hunger _ to know?”

[The ARCHIVIST takes a deep breath through his nose, holding himself back. UNKNOWN laughs.]

“Ooh, self control. Trust me, Archivist, it’s overrated. It’s easier to just,”

[a muffling distortion that blocks out the background noise, amplifying UNKNOWN voice’s deep and low tone] 

_ “Let go.” _

ARCHIVIST

“I—” [The ARCHIVIST clears his throat.] “I am not inclined to trust very many at the moment, especially you.”

UNKNOWN

“Oh, fine. But that leaves a question. I have so many stories to tell, Archivist. Where will you start?”

[A long silence stretches between the two, surrounded by passing conversation and cars that lack much detail] 

ARCHIVIST

[Static fills the recording, leaving only the ARCHIVIST’s words] 

“What is your name?”

UNKNOWN

[The inhale and exhale as UNKNOWN takes a puff of his cigarette. There’s a pointed paused between his exhale and his next words, one where the ARCHIVIST takes a breath as if to repeat himself]

“I see. Starting with the basics. Must not be hungry.”

[Another inhale and exhale of smoke, UNKNOWN’s tone grows strong and you can hear his smile as he speaks] 

“Name’s Jonny d’Ville.”

The ARCHIVIST

“I-uh…” [A confused silence passes from the ARCHIVIST before he continues]

[The static returns]

“Were you affiliated with Alfred Grifter?”

[D’ville laughs]

D’VILLE

“Affiliated’s a word for it. We weren’t friends or anything. But he approached us with an opportunity—”

ARCHIVIST

“Us?” 

D’VILLE

“The Mechanisms. Though, I guess that name means jack shit to you, considering we’re only really known as Grifter’s Bone. Not a bad name, I s’pose. Still prefer ours. Shame our most memorable performance was the one with  _ him _ . Anyway—”

ARCHIVIST

“One second.”

D’VILLE

“Can you stop interrupting me?” 

[There’s the ruffle of fabric and miscellaneous objects before the audio suddenly becomes clearer.]

ARCHIVIST

“Oh.”

D’VILLE

“How long’s that thing been running?”

ARCHIVIST

“I… Don’t know. I must— it must have turned on during the walk over.”

D’VILLE

“Sure.”

[The ARCHIVIST clears his throat, D’VILLE exhales another puff of smoke]

“Statement of Jonny d’Ville regarding the Mechanisms and their collaboration with one Alfred Grifter. Statement taken direct from subject May 20th, 2017. Statement Begins.”

D’VILLE

[His tone is almost tauntingly polite]

“So where would you like me to start?”

ARCHIVIST

[The distortion returns, lighter this time]

_ “How did you meet Alfred Grifter?”  _

D’VILLE

“Well. Me and my friends, we were a travelling band. We would go from here to there to play. We had a doctor, Carmilla, with us for a while. She… started to go a bit nuts, rambling about chopping people up and doing things we just weren’t, so we ditched her somewhere in Shropshire. No idea where she is now. Probably dead.”

ARCHIVIST

“What did Carmilla detail, specifically?”

D’VILLE

[D’VILLE’s tone brooks no amusement or interest in derailing] 

“Stuff we weren’t there for. Nothing less fun than chopping up a dead man, especially if you were the one who got to shoot him. Learned that pretty quickly.”

[The ARCHIVIST is silent] 

“May I continue?”

ARCHIVIST

“You killed people? Before Grifter?”

D’VILLE

“Of course. But never quite like what you would think. Bar brawls that got out of hand? Those were… Well, those were my favorite. Nastya loved pushing road ragers a bit too far.”

ARCHIVIST

“Was—”

D’VILLE

“Just because Nastya sounds Russian doesn’t mean she’s connected to Orsinov. Which she wasn’t. But Toy was.” 

[A moment of hesitation]

ARCHIVIST 

“‘Toy?’”

D’VILLE

“We nicknamed them that. We were poking around during one of those damn Black Friday sales. There’s nothing quite as entertaining as watching a soccer mom beat an overweight basement dweller to death with a TV. But at the end of it all, there was this… Thing. We didn’t know what it was, at first, cause it may have looked like a mannequin but it sure as  _ fuck  _ wasn’t. I shot it. Tim shot it. It didn’t care. You’ve met Orsinov, you know what kind of thing it was. It joined us on our trips after that. Played the mandolin.”

“Wasn’t too long after that when we met Grifter. He approached us after a concert, while I was having a smoke. Nearly shot him. And we’d heard about him, mind you. We weren’t  _ that  _ enamored with our  _ fun _ . He told us what the Slaughter was. We didn’t know, exactly. We knew there were things out there, we knew there was a reason why some of our concerts got so… Out of hand.” [There’s a smile in D’VILLE’s voice] “We just didn’t know  _ what _ .”

“And trust me, Archivist, there is nothing so  _ beautiful  _ as what that man showed us to play.”

“We joined him, at least for a time. He didn’t like the Toy Soldier much, but, really, when the Stranger’s involved it just makes it that much more  _ fun _ . Soho wasn’t our first venture, our first was at a small joint in Cambridge. And it was amazing. Nothing, no drug or drink or other human being can make me feel the way I did that night.”

[Static crackles momentarily]

ARCHIVIST

“H… How did it feel?”

D’VILLE

“How did it  _ feel _ ? Hah! How did it feel? There is nothing, Archivist, that can explain how that felt in words. But...”

[A lilting tune begins to play from the harmonica. Static and crackling fill the recording]

ARCHIVIST

“No. Don’t. Just… Use your words.”

[The static grows high and intense. The ARCHIVIST speaks with intent]

_ “Tell me how it felt.” _

D’VILLE

“Have you ever been filled with vigor, Archivist? Vigor, like nothing else, like there’s only one thing in the world you want— no, one thing you  _ need—  _ and you would do anything, kill anyone, to get it?”

[Pointed silence from the ARCHIVIST] 

“Filled to your eyeballs in this passion, this fiery fucking need that makes you feel like you’re going to break out of your skin? Because that first night where I sang with the Slaughter was the greatest night in my life. It was like there was a hollowness, a want and a need to itch that no bar brawl could satiate, that was suddenly  _ filled _ . Filled to the point of bursting, like I couldn’t contain the pure energy of it.

I Sang. I sang so hard and long I felt like my vocal chords would snap in half and my throat would tear open with pure unbridled violence, I couldn’t feel anything but the words, and that… That  _ hellfire _ , in my veins, felt like my heart was an inferno of passion and want melting everything in my chest and— it was glorious. So, so glorious… 

And the audience felt it, too.

“They went  _ wild _ , Archivist.”

[D’VILLE laughs, high and wild] 

“Absolutely  _ manic _ , with that music. With that beautiful, beautiful song. They punched and stabbed and clawed until there was nothing but the bloody ribbons and pulp of what used to be an audience of thirty. That feeling in my veins, I wanted to watch the joint go up down in flames and throw myself inside. Not like I wanted to die, Archivist, no… Like  _ living _ . I felt like  _ living _ . No drink, no matter how strong or expensive or exotic, could ever match up to that feeling. That  _ euphoria  _ would never be able to be replicated by  _ human _ means. And that made it taste all the better.”

“I remember, oh, I remember it so clearly. I remember looking to Tim, Brian, Marius, Ivy, Ashes, and Nastya and even the Toy Soldier and they all had that wild hunger, that wild  _ love  _ for the music in their eyes. And I stood there and laughed. I laughed and laughed for hours. I was so— so enveloped with that wild, fiery passion that all I could do was laugh and drink and  _ laugh _ .

“I suppose you can say we went on tour with Grifter, after that. We registered under the name of the Mechanisms, no respectable establishment would let a band called Grifter’s Bone play for them after all, and the respectable establishments were the best ones. We played in the seedy bars and the dives and they were fun, but… Well, nothing is so fun as watching people who would never have considered taking a butter knife to their neighbor’s throat do just that, dancing, and dancing to that  _ glorious  _ fucking music, shedding their skin and blood in that pure embrace of _ slaughter _ …” 

ARCHIVIST

“How—” [The ARCHIVIST clears his throat] “How many did you kill?”

D’VILLE

“On that tour? Practically none. At least not by my hand, anyway. I wasn’t the one wielding the knives, the chairs, the broken bottles. No, Archivist, I was just the  _ singer _ . I can do quite the invocation. Would you like me to show you?”

ARCHIVIST

[Sternly]

“ _ No. _ ”

D’VILLE

“Are you sure? Not many know what it sounds like. Would you like to?”

ARCHIVIST

“N— No. No, I would not.”

D’VILLE

“Suit yourself. I don’t think it would be worth the attempt, anyway. The Beholding seems to have a pretty solid grip of you. The Slaughter isn’t very fond of Watchers.”

ARCHIVIST

“What about you?”

[D’VILLE hums, inhales and exhales from his cigarette]

D’VILLE

“Not sure. You keep interrupting me. But you’re also… well, I wouldn’t say funny, but… It’s been a while since I’ve been able to chat about that first night.” [D’VILLE exhales, his tone borderline giddy] “It’s quite  _ fun _ .”

ARCHIVIST

[Sounding vaguely disconcerted] “Quite.” 

D’VILLE

“Well. Soho was one of our last gigs with Grifter. The crew were getting antsy. Grifter, he wasn’t… He wasn’t quite like the rest of us. Boring, I guess you could say. He sure dressed boring. I don’t know if you can tell, but us Mechanisms don’t like dressing boring.”

[The ARCHIVIST doesn’t answer] 

“Well, one more gig after Soho, we went our separate ways. I don’t even know if the man’s still  _ alive,  _ since he was getting on in age. Also he kept saying my harmonica was stupid. The bastard.”

ARCHIVIST

“You didn’t kill him?”

D’VILLE

“No, of course not. I don’t like him, but I respect the craft of a musician. Even if he's a fucking _prat_. Same reason we didn’t kill Carmilla. Well, that and this.”

[There’s the snap of buttons coming undone and the ruffle of fabric, followed by a startled inhale from the ARCHIVIST] 

ARCHIVIST

“What— What the  _ hell _ is that?”

D’VILLE

“A little memento from the doctor, I guess. Can’t for the life of me figure out how to get rid of it. Not even sure I want to. At least not anymore.”

ARCHIVIST

“The doctor— Carmilla— she did that?”

D’VILLE

“Oh, yeah. She may have lost her license but she knew what she was doing, after I took a knife to the chest. It wasn’t even that pure, fluid violence. No, it was a damn mugger. But he was… useful, in the end. Pretty sure that artery is his.”

[There’s a light tap against flesh stretched over metal. The ARCHIVIST weakly swallows] 

“Well, I suppose that’s it, then. Statement ends, yeah?”

[There’s the sound of footsteps, which are abruptly stopped]

ARCHIVIST

“No— No, wait, I still have questions. I—”

[D’VILLE laughs, long and high]

D’VILLE

“The Archivist still has questions. Isn’t that how it always is? I’m like a buffet for you, right, Archivist? A stockpile of stories, just waiting to be picked out and consumed? Am I wrong?”

ARCHIVIST

“I— I don’t— I don’t understand.”

[D’VILLE laughs again]

D’VILLE

“Of course you don’t. It’s rather fun for us, watching a Watcher  _ squirm  _ with all that can and should not be known at the edge of their fingertips.”

[Static increases and distorts as D’VILLE laughs and the Archivist begins to speak]

ARCHIVIST

_ “What do you mean?” _

D’VILLE

“ _ I mean  _ you better figure out how to feed it, Archivist. Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have a gig to get to.” 

[There’s the harsh ruffle of clothing and the static returns full force]

ARCHIVIST

_ “Wait.” _

[The static abruptly cuts off. D’VILLE feet stomp heavy on the ground and the ARCHIVIST yelps, followed by the heavy thump of body meeting a thick wall.]

D’VILLE

“Careful, Archivist.”

[The ARCHIVIST gags and there’s the creak of hands pressing into flesh while the ARCHIVIST struggles]

D’VILLE

“Grabbing onto random folks in the street is liable to get you  _ hurt _ .” 

[D’VILLE laughs as the ARCHIVIST continues to struggle] 

[A hit lands and D’VILLE grunts, followed by the tape recorder clattering on the ground. In the near distance, there’s the rumble of an old car engine and its wheels on road]

D’VILLE

“Oh, whoops. Hope I didn’t break your little recorder.” 

UNKNOWN

“Jonny!”

[The ARCHIVIST’s sucks in a deep, ragged breath, the sounds of a weak struggle continuing]

D’VILLE

“Oh, look, that’s my ride.” 

[There’s a heavy thump of a body on the ground followed by receding footsteps. The ARCHIVIST sucks in several deep, ragged breaths]

D’VILLE

“Thanks for the light, Archivist!” 

ARCHIVIST

  
“W— Wait— Wa—”

[The ARCHIVIST breaks into a coughing fit. There’s the distant thunk of a closing car door and then the loud screech of tires as the vehicle drives away] 

[Quick footsteps of someone approaching]

PASSERSBY

“Hey, mate, you alright?”

ARCHIVIST

“I— yea— yes, yes, I’m…”

[There’s the scrape of plastic casing on concrete as the ARCHIVIST picks up the recorder]

ARCHIVIST

“I’m fine.” 

[There’s a pause as the footsteps recede. The ARCHIVIST breathes for a few moments]

ARCHIVIST

“Re… Recording ends.”

**[CLICK]**


End file.
